The rain stopped just before dawn, leaving behind a washed-out silence.Xi Youran sat cross-legged beneath a cliff of jagged obsidian, her breath thin, her pulse sharp. The Phoenix Synthesis burned inside her veins—beautiful, lethal, and unstable. Each inhalation drew faint red vapors from the air; each exhalation shimmered with golden heat.
She could sense them approaching.
Soul Clan scouts. Three of them, cloaked in black, their presence blending with the shadows.
Let's see if your sacrifice was worth it, Hui…
Xi Youran pressed her palms together. Her Qi spiraled—gold against crimson—forming a blazing lotus of alchemic fire.
The first scout lunged. She countered, thrusting the lotus forward; it detonated mid-air, a fusion of heat and light that distorted reality itself. The ground cracked. The air howled. Her blood boiled—but her eyes never wavered.
A second scout tried to flank her. She twisted, using Hui's Echo Pulse—a newly awakened technique that bent Qi flow backward, redirecting impact through time for one instant. The blow landed on the attacker himself, sending him crashing into a tree.
"Phoenix Synthesis, second form…" she murmured. The veins across her neck glowed faintly. "Rebirth Flame."
The world ignited.
At the Palace — JianZi's Trap
While fire bloomed beyond the city's walls, the royal court gathered under the grand skylight of vermilion glass. Prince JianZi stood beside the Emperor, composed and unreadable. Across from him sat the Yuan Princess—Yuan Fei—the supposed jewel of the southern alliance.
She smiled, serene as a painted flower. Yet when JianZi bowed, his words sliced like a blade.
"Your Highness, would you honor us by singing the anthem of your homeland? The true Yuan line always carried it in their blood."
A subtle test. One no imposter could pass.
Yuan Fei froze. The color drained from her face. Around them, nobles whispered. The emperor's brow furrowed.
And then—something snapped.
A ripple of foreign Qi burst from Yuan Fei's body. Her pupils shimmered with unnatural light—the mark of a Reincarnator.
"Stop pretending this is your world!" she screamed, her voice cracking with hysteria. "None of you are real! None of this matters!"
Gasps filled the hall.
JianZi stepped forward, unsheathing his blade, the tip gleaming in the candlelight. "Then perhaps, Princess, you should tell us whose world you think this is."
The Writer's Hall
Far away, inside a hidden pagoda where countless scrolls whispered of mortal fates, Lu Han finished his report.
"Master Zen, that is all I have discovered."
The old man's expression was unreadable beneath the silver glow of his lamp."No wonder the balance trembles," he muttered. "Two anomalies at once—a reincarnator who mistakes fiction for life, and a returner reborn twice within one cycle."
Lu Han bowed his head. "And the First Prince?"
"Uncertain. But there is also talk of a white-haired man roaming the capital. His presence disrupts our scripts. Perhaps… another from the Beyond."
The candle flickered. Both men fell silent, the weight of their duty pressing down like stone.
They were "Writers of Truth," cursed to record the lives of every reincarnator and returner, yet forbidden to see the future. Once, their clan had been revered. Now, only whispers of monsters remained.
"Master," Lu Han asked quietly, "why must we continue this burden?"
Zen smiled bitterly. "Because if the Writers vanish, so will memory itself. And then even the gods will forget why they live."
Battlefield of Crimson Fire
Back at the cliff, Xi Youran's vision blurred. Her Qi channels screamed under strain. The third Soul scout, cloaked in violet smoke, unleashed a strike laced with soul-poison.
She staggered, clutching her chest—then remembered Hui's final words echoing in her mind.
'When your flame falters, let my core guide your path.'
The crystal embedded in her ring pulsed once. The world slowed.
She weaved a new array—one she'd only theorized before.Alchemy symbols spun in golden light, fusing with her Qi in perfect rhythm.
"Phoenix Synthesis… Final form." Her voice trembled but firmed. "Soul Reforging."
The flames roared into the heavens, swallowing everything in gold and scarlet. When it faded, the scouts lay defeated, their dark essence purified into ash.
Xi Youran fell to her knees, gasping. Her hands trembled, but her spirit blazed stronger than ever.
"Hui… Master… I did it."
Above, the clouds parted. A faint white feather drifted down, landing softly on her palm.
Meanwhile, at the Palace
Yuan Fei stumbled backward, her disguise crumbling under pressure. The markings of reincarnation—runic, glowing lines—spread across her skin. The nobles recoiled.
JianZi's sword pointed straight at her throat. "Your soul does not belong to this world."
Yuan Fei laughed—half-mad, half-heartbroken. "Of course it doesn't. I only wanted to rewrite it. In my novel… the heroine never loses."
The windows shattered. A wave of invisible force exploded outward, hurling everyone back. When the smoke cleared—the fake princess was gone.